Nothing but Trouble!
by LittleSnowDancer
Summary: With the emotional level of a rock, Tezuka Kunimitsu is fazed by nothing. Even now in high school, he juggles the captainship over tennis club and the whole school effortlessly. But when trouble finally decides to pay him a visit, will he finally crack?


**Disclaimer:** Prince of Tennis and all its canon characters are created, written, and thus owned by Takeshi Konomi. Nothing in this story, save for the plot and created characters, belong to me.

**Summary:** With the emotional level of a rock, Tezuka Kunimitsu consistently remains unfazed by anything. Even now, in high school, he juggles the captainship over tennis club and the student council presidential post effortlessly. But when trouble finally decides to pay Seigaku's resident Superman a visit, will the stoic mask finally begin to crack? Read on to find out how Tezuka's life gets turned upside down by an unruly yet mysterious skater girl!

**Rating:** T for colorful and (in the future) creative swear words.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: "Not my day"<strong>

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><p>Feet continuously shuffle on the ground, desperately trying to keep pace.<p>

180 degree turn.

Calves ache from fatigue.

Flick.

Heat and sweat are being exuded by every pore in the body; face, hands...

"5 laps."

Inhale. Exhale. Every intake of breath is a struggle. Ounce by ounce of energy depleting. Lungs struggling more and more to maintain their function as the finish line draws closer.

"Last lap."

Quicker now, the pace becomes. Faster meant the torture ends sooner.

Loudly a whistle blows. There had never been heard a sound more angelic. Bodies collapse unto the dirt ground, worked to the bone.

Irritation.

A brown haired boy pushes his glasses up by the bridge, his eye brows knitting as they meet in the middle. He blows on the—now dreaded—whistle once again, and lets it dangle on his neck as he opens his mouth for another command.

"No breaks. Get into pairs and do 50 sit-ups each."

Collective groans are heard. Bodies pick themselves up from the ground and follow anyway, fear outweighing fatigue.

"Man, why does our Captain have to be such a hard-ass? It's not like—"

Cold sweat begins to trickle down the foolish boy's body. Warily he turns around, finding said captain well within hearing range.

"Additional 50 sit-ups," came the stern command.

Hushed, irritated curses are thrown at the foolish speaker's direction. The boy merely bows his head, willingly admitting his fault.

_Meanwhile..._

An audible pop.

A body is propelled into the air, shoulders elevated, knees sucked in.

Sole slides over grip tape. The force produced is heard from the distinct sound of friction. The wooden board flips in mid-air, before it is caught with both feet and is landed on a bench.

A heel flip...

One foot lifts slightly, while the other balances perfectly on two wheels.

Arms out, she keeps her trunk forward at a reasonable distance while majority of her body weight is placed on her back foot, maintaining balance.

Heel flip to manual...

Popping the tail of the board, she takes off the bench and lands perfectly on the ground. She continues for a short distance before coming to a stop.

Sweat makes her face glisten under the sunlight. Popping the tail of her board once more, she grabs it and makes her way back to the bench. Her breathing slightly laboured, she wipes the sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand before reaching for the cold drink in her bag.

Uncapping the lid, she puts the rim on her mouth and immediately feels relief as the fluid quenches her thirst.

"THIEF!" A voice suddenly shrieks.

Eyes and ears tracing the sound, she finds a petite, middle-aged woman holding a child with one hand. Her face is in utter disbelief while her other hand is pointed to a man clad in black, pink purse in hand and starting to make a run.

"Well, that's definitely a fashion no-no." The skater says to no one in particular.

She puts the sports drink back in her bag, slings it over one shoulder before picking her skateboard up with her free hand. Towards the direction of the said offender, she starts with a run. Gaining enough momentum, she jumps on her skateboard and follows in pursuit.

Swerving on the sidewalk, she easily manoeuvres around the crowd. "Wait up!" She yells out to the man, smirking still.

The offender looks behind him briefly. Spotting his tail, he decides to accelerate.

"Tsk. I hate it when they play hard to get."

With her right foot, she pedals hard, gaining more speed.

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><p>"Practice dismissed." The stern Seigaku high school tennis captain announces.<p>

Audible sighs of relief are heard from all the members present. Finally, another torturous session has come to a close.

"You'd think that after going to junior high with him I'd be used to this by now... but it's like Tezuka-sempai has turned from 'buchou' to drill sergeant!" The spiky-haired Momoshiro Takeshi murmurs.

His red-headed sempai, Kikumaru Eiji, could only nod in agreement.

"At least we get to go home now! You can buy us burgers on the way!" The bubbly red-head chimes.

"EH?"

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><p>The thief was running on a bridge over the busy street now. With only one way to go, he turns sharply and runs down the flight of stairs. Seeing this from afar, the girl's smirk grows. With the man's next move already pre-empted, she bends her knees in preparation.<p>

With her back foot, she pops the skateboard into the air once again. Dragging the board with her front foot and elevating her body higher, she jumps over the handrail. An ollie.

Looking down, her breath gets caught and the smirk is immediately wiped out from her face upon spotting her landing space... presently occupied.

Without time to take any other action, she shouts, "WATCH OUT!"

A head turns up at the warning, although it was delivered a little too late.

Instinctively, she grabs the skateboard with one hand, managing to keep it away from the bystander who, in a few milliseconds, is to become a mere landing pad.

Onlookers watched in shock as the collision sent two bodies crashing to the ground. Even the offender stops briefly in his tracks upon the quick turn of events.

"OOF!"

"Ah-!" The female voice groans in pain. She shakes her head a few times to recover from the impact before her eyes zero in on the thief.

"YOU!" She screams.

Immediately finding his bearings, the man starts to take off again.

"OI!"

Cursing, she picks her skateboard and other scattered items on the ground. Only then does she remember the other casualty.

"Oh shit!" The vulgar mouth curses again, while scrambling to get off the innocent victim. "Are you alright, Mister?" Her eyes quickly sweep over said victim, spotting for any major injuries. Finding none, she lets out a sigh of relief before slinging her backpack over her shoulder once again.

"I'm really sorry! But I really have to go now!" She apologizes, bowing her head. Not even waiting for a reply, she gets on her skateboard to pursue the handbag thief once more.

"I got a thief to catch!" She yells out to him, already quite a distance away.

Tezuka Kunimitsu could only stare. Although his face does not show it, for it seems incapable of displaying any other expression save the regular stoicism, he is beyond dumbfounded.

A dirtied uniform, dishevelled hair and a scrape to the arm were nothing to cry about, but to be left with nothing but a half-hearted apology and a wave goodbye, Seishun Gakuen's Tennis sensation is appalled. In fact, if it was in his nature to scoff, he would be, after the poor display of manners and courtesy, or more precisely, the lack thereof.

He dusts his pants off as he stands, and collects his items from the ground. The crowd begin to disperse realizing there was nothing more to see.

Wiping the lenses on his glasses, he murmurs to himself, "Just not my day."

Collecting the final item on the ground, he dusts off the black mobile phone before pocketing it. He lets out a sigh, as if to leave the negative vibe behind.

In his mind, he repeats a word in question, _"Mister?"_, before continuing the walk to his destination.

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><p>"AIIIIIISH!" The girl grouses upon finally losing the thief amongst the throng of people. She had been tailing the said offender for a good 8 km until the thief, being smarter than she'd anticipated, cleverly decided to take the chase into Shibuya's central business district. It just so happens to be peak hour at the moment too.<p>

Power sliding to a stop, the girl picks her skateboard up and finds a nearby bench to rest on. She makes her way to the seat, but not without kicking an innocent pebble out of her way.

Seated, she dishevels her hair before finally letting out a sigh in frustration. "So much for today's good deed." She mutters.

Finally settling down, she takes her phone from her pocket to check the time.

7:30.

"Shit. I'm late." She curses, before pressing on a few buttons on her phone.

One hand rubs her temple while the other taps impatiently on her lap, waiting for someone to pick up on the other line.

"It's Aiko. I won't be able to make it tonight. Call me when you get this and we'll work something out."

Putting the phone back in her pocket, she pauses for a few seconds before...

Frustrated by her lack of fortune, she screams, "SHIT!", while kicking air. Only then does she notice the couple that have decided to sit on the opposite end of her bench. They jump in surprise upon hearing the her outburst.

She quickly bows her head in apology and decides to vacate immediately, hoping to save herself from further embarrassment.

Hopping on her skateboard, she makes her way to Shibuya station, calling it a night. In line for the ticket machine, she rummages her bag for her purse and spots something foreign in the process. She ends up taking out her brown purse, as well as a brown, leather wallet that she did not recognize.

Curious, she opens the wallet and her jaw drops upon seeing the ID inside.

She slaps her head upon realizing the severity of her mistake. "Oh Aiko, you've really done it now. Trying to catch a thief... now you've become one."

Noticing that it was her turn on the ticket machine, she opens up her own purse and isn't too surprised with what she finds, or more precisely, what she doesn't find. She turns to the leather wallet in her hand once more, and takes a brief second to contemplate her next actions. Soon, she shrugs.

"Ah well. I guess I owe you 20 Yen Mr. Tezuka Kunimitsu"

_Meanwhile... at Shinjuku Train Station_

The bespectacled boy runs a hand through his brown, tousled hair after thoroughly searching his school and tennis bag. His wallet is officially missing.

He lets out an inaudible grunt as an image flashes in his mind. Skateboard. Midnight blue hair.

"Really not my day." He says under his breath, turning around to exit the busy railway station and starting the 50 minute walk towards home.

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><p><strong><strong>To be continued...<strong>**

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><p><strong>AN:  
><strong>This isn't really an update. I just decided to fix the tense problems I had previously. Hopefully it's less distrating now.****

Keeping it brief... If you liked it, please review. If you disliked it. Please review... and then tell me the specifics. If you found mistakes, trivial or distracting, please review.

And yes, Battle of the Tensais will be updated soon enough. Cheers!


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